Take Me Away
by xcolourmyworld
Summary: Troy Bolton's mother is dying of cancer. Ever since she had been diagnosed with Oligodendroglioma, Troy has isolated himself from the entire world, his dream, even his best friends. But what happens when he meets a girl, who could change everything?


**Author's Note: It's been FOREVER since I've written for here, cut me a bit of slack. This was originally a story I was writing for, just for fun. I changed it so I could use it for High School Musical because I enjoy writing for that more than anything on here. I hope you guys like it, and give me your feedback. Hopefully I can continue this. And yes, Oligodendroglioma is a real cancer.**

Chapter One

The look on her face was almost unbearable. It was as if she was a vegetable now, unable to speak, or understand anything that was said to her, but merely a lifeless body hooked up to a machine, living by a tiny little thread that could snap at any second. She had turned a pale shade of a blue, as if all her veins were beginning to collapse completely. The only sound able to be heard was that of the machine breathing for her; nobody else dared to make a sound or move at all.

My mother had been diagnosed with brain cancer a few years ago, when she was 46. It is called Oligodendroglioma. Oligodendroglioma affects people over 45 years of age, and my mother had celebrated her 47th birthday covered in tubes and unable to see her family because she had been getting treatment. Unfortunately, there are some patients that are particularly sensitive to this treatment with the radiation therapy and chemotherapy, my mother being one of them. They had told us that if they had continued to respond with treatments, it could possibly lessen her lifespan. The likelihood of patients living with Oligodendroglioma is 50%, after five years. It has been four.

I spent every day of my life in the hospital, afraid that if I were to go out, even for a few minutes, something could happen to her. The doctors had told us that they weren't sure if she could understand us or not, but I still talked to her; occasionally reading stories or reports I had for school, praying and hoping that during one of our sessions, she'd smile, or laugh, or even make any sound at all for that matter, just because it was so hard to listen to the machine, and missing her soft voice speaking to me.

It had been so different before any of this had happened, I felt like as the cancer was slowly taking away her life, it somehow was taking mine too. I felt completely and utterly isolated from everything and everybody, like I was a lost child in a world full of people I didn't even know at all. I suppose it was partially my fault for it, after my mother's illness began I had basically begun to shut out every single person in my life completely; minus her and my dad. I'd ditch friends to be at the hospital, sometimes even ditch going to the hospital just to sit around depressed in my bed. I was so empty. A hollow body full of nothing.

"Troy, you have school in a few hours, you better go home and get some rest."

My dad wasn't always the most thrilled about me trying to spend all of my time at the hospital, sometimes spending the night here and heading right to school the next day, without even changing my clothes or brushing my hair. I suppose a part of me could understand why, I'd sometimes find myself dozing off in class, having to ask the teacher to repeat the directions to the assignment at least two times, or occasionally skipping class to catch up on any of the assignments I hadn't done the previous night.

"Alright," I say hesitantly, eyes still not leaving my mother's bed. Truth was, I still didn't feel like sleeping, at all. But I couldn't skip school anymore because my record was basically already down the toilet. I had no choice.

"I'll talk to you when you get home from school. Please, try and get some sleep."

I don't respond, but merely nod my head at him slowly, walking over to my mother's bed and sparing a last glance at her. I give her a slight peck on her forehead. Cold, as always. I wondered if she could feel my kiss. If she wanted to wake up. If she could. I tear my gaze away, quickly before anyone could notice my eyes beginning to water.

My legs felt fuzzy walking out of the small room; as if both were beginning to fall asleep from standing up for too long. The nurses smile sympathetically at me, which I ignore. I hated when people do that to feel bad for you. I bet their lives were absolutely perfect. Perfect husband, perfect job, tons of money, maybe even a few kids. It bothered me to know that where my family was just about to fall apart, there were others that were standing totally and completely perfect.

It was fairly cold once I had stepped outside; the air had hit me as if a thousand knives had been piercing through my skin. I rubbed my arms fiercely to provide any kind of warmth while I had to walk in the dark to find my car. It was quiet; which didn't help me in the least bit. When it was quiet, I started to think. When I started to think, I'd start to feel depressed. When I started to feel depressed, well, I did depressing things. Or things that depressed people do.

My car was parked a few rows down in the parking lot, near a white Sedan. Sticking the key into the ignition, I turn on the heat full blast, beginning to let the tears pour out of my eyes; just because. Pulling out of the driveway, I blink my eyes a few times to clear my vision, my teeth gripping down on my bottom lip to keep me from screaming. My foot steps down on the gas pedal, and I floor out of there as fast as I can. The radio does me no justice; for some reason none of the stations would come in. Instead, I'm forced to listen to my shitty car, and my unsteady breathing the whole ride home.


End file.
